


The Other Side of the Coffee Cup

by rocketpool



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Gen, cross-posted from LJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-30
Updated: 2008-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:36:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocketpool/pseuds/rocketpool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry follows Thomas to the Coiffure Cup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Side of the Coffee Cup

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a thank you for [](http://chatona.livejournal.com/profile)[**chatona**](http://chatona.livejournal.com/), who sent me a whole chunk of music by Chris Kane. Spoilers for the last scene in _White Night_ , and since I'm retelling the scene from Thomas' point of view, I pulled the dialog straight from the book.

My name is Thomas Raith, and I'm a monster.

It isn't obvious when you see me. In fact, chances are pretty damn good that if you did meet me, you wouldn't believe it if someone told you. You'd find yourself coming back to my boutique, though, and it wouldn't have anything to do with the amazing espresso you drank while waiting out front. (Even if Kopi Luwak is the caffeine of the gods. Makes Kona taste like cheap diner piss.)

No one suspects the trendy French hair stylist with the amazing hands and impeccable taste. No one notices what I steal in bits and pieces, one smiling sigh at a time. Its never more than I need, never enough to leave a client more empty than when they arrived.

I'm a monster, not a villain.

“Here I'm thinking you've created your own batch of personal thralls while running around as a hired killer or something,” Harry says as he rubs at the bridge of his nose, “and... you're washing _hair_?”

It hurts that he doubted me. I suppose its my own fault after dodging all those calls and cutting him off. My little brother is Exacto sharp, except for when he isn't, and it doesn't take him long to figure out how I'm feeding. I squash my agitation, focusing instead on his intentions. Harry is a good man, despite everything; even with my assurances he digs a little to make sure my clients – my prey – are safe. Then digs again because he's worried about me.

Sometimes I wonder which of us is the older brother.

Finally satisfied, he relaxes enough to really enjoy some of his coffee. With a blink he stops. Swallows. His gaze slides back over to me. “They all think I'm your lover, don't they.”

I try not to smirk. “This is a trendy, upper-class boutique, Harry. No one expects a man with a place like this to be straight.” I don't mention how that allows me to get that much more intimate with my clients. Or how that small presumption is enough to prevent them from getting too interested to begin with.

Teasing turns to business. Harry changes topics like a revolver cylinder rotating a new bullet into the chamber. He's got an idea, something defensive. Something to try and protect people whenever the next coup made its move.

“I thought maybe you'd want to be in on it,” he says casually, sipping on his coffee.

My throat closes in a flash of anger and jealousy. He can afford to be casual. I'm the one stuck between my brother and my sister. If I help one I betray the other, and helping either could get me killed. Could leave Justine vulnerable. He can afford to do the right thing whenever he damn well pleases because its in his nature.

And like that the anger is gone. He is who he is. Harry can't help that any more than I can change who my father is.

“Um, yeah. Yeah, we can talk about it.”

If Harry notices the way I stumble over my words, he doesn't say anything. He just goes right on to ask about Justine, offering to try and rescue her as casually as discussing the weather. He really is a good man. A good brother. So I tell him what Justine is really doing as Lara's assistant. Even as he realizes the potential of her position, he's concerned for her. But he leaves it for now and asks about Lara instead.

“Poor Lara,” he says after I've told him the Deeps had collapsed. “No more convenient corpse-disposal facilities.”

I remember the look on her face when she received the damage report and laugh. Her eyes had bulged a little when she saw how much repairs were going to cost and how little that would actually restore. “It's nice to see her exasperated. She's usually so self-assured.”

“I have a gift.”

“You do,” I agree with a nod. For a moment we sit quietly, enjoying the coffee.

“Thomas,” he says finally. “Why didn't you tell me about this?” Harry gestures vaguely to mean the Coiffure Cup.

I shrug a little and look away. I can't exactly tell him that I didn't say anything because it wasn't good enough. I found a way to satisfy the Hunger without hurting anyone, yes. But I'm still a vampire, still a predator. A monster. Makes it hard to be proud of the accomplishment. It's not like I thought Harry would have agreed with the idea to begin with.

“At first? Because it was humiliating,” I say instead. I keep my eyes on the table. “I mean... working nights to put myself through cosmetology school? Starting my own place and posing as...” I wave my hand to include all the stupid aspects of my alias. “I thought... I don't know. At first I thought you'd disapprove or... laugh at me or something.”

“No. Never.” I glance up to see he's managed to keep a straight face. Except his eyes are crinkled at the corner with amusement.

“And after that... well. I'd been keeping secrets. I didn't want you to think I didn't trust you.”

He snorts. “In other words you _didn't_ trust me. To understand.”

I look back down at the table. My cheeks burn in embarrassment, because he's partially right. I didn't trust him to trust me. I should have known better. “Um. I guess so, yeah. Sorry.”

“Don't worry about it,” he says and puts a hand on my shoulder reassuringly. He squeezes my shoulder before he lets go.

I close my eyes and nod gratefully. Nothing else needs to be said.


End file.
